


Any Excuse for a Good Time

by DLoss



Series: Any Excuse for a Good Time [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Gavin Reed being a prick, I'm a terrible human, M/M, Non-Consensual Blow Jobs, One Shot, Poor Connor, Post successful 'peaceful' good ending, Public Masturbation, Rape/Non-con Elements, but i love it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-18
Updated: 2018-08-18
Packaged: 2019-06-29 05:00:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15722487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DLoss/pseuds/DLoss
Summary: Connor just needed to make himself presentable after a run-in with a witness. Reed just needed to pee.A bathroom run in goes awry for Connor when Reed's 'professional interest' in his programming lands him in a stressful scenario.





	Any Excuse for a Good Time

Connor made a mental note to no longer serve coffee above 80* Celsius; if he had been human when the witness had decided to throw the freshly supplied precinct coffee in his face he would have received second degree burns.

As it was he was simply frustrated that he only had one shirt. It was now stained with coffee. The mix had been wiped off his face and was able to be rinsed from his tie, however his shirt was no simple task. One option was to simply buy another one and have it delivered, but now that he was on a police salary he needed to think about his expenses. Previously he would have simply charged Cyberlife.

But he didn’t work for Cyberlife anymore.

He glanced up at the mirror he was standing in front of, shirt in hands, trying to get the stains to rinse to a point the shirt once again looked white. His LED was pulsing blue, his hair damp from where he’d rinsed the coffee out. Hank was going to tell him he’d told him so. No white shirts, he’d said.

Now Connor was starting to understand why.

He glanced at the shirt again, wringing out as much of the liquid as he could without tearing the fabric. It would take approximately forty minutes to dry if he increased his body temperature by one point five degrees. He pulled the shirt on, tugging it straight, preening the wrinkles out as much as he could. He didn’t turn around when the door opened to his far right, busy trying get the collar to sit straight around his neck.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Detective Reed demanded. Connor turned to find him at the urinal.

“Trying to clean my shirt.” Connor responded. “Good afternoon Detective Reed.”

Reed made an amused sound, similar to a snort, and turned away to shake and zip. He spoke once he was headed for the sink two away from where Connor stood.

“Detective Plastic got something on his shirt?” he laughed. “How?”

“A witness threw a black coffee at me.” Connor explained, turning to the mirror to re-button. Reed choked out laughter.

“Good on them.” He commented.

“I have no other shirts.” Connor added.

“Of course not.” Reed laughed. “Androids don’t do washing, right?”

“I do not perspire, therefore my clothes are clean unless externally soiled.” Connor agreed, hesitating over the top button. The tie was still drying, he should leave the top button undone until both garments were dry. It would facilitate more efficient-

“Hey, asshole.” Reed clicked his fingers in front of Connors face. Reed had moved closer, which was not a good thing. Reed exercised his aggression by first moving into what humans would consider ‘personal space’.

Connor made the conscious decision not to take a step back to restore the space. He glanced at Reed.

“Pardon, Detective Reed?” He said evenly.

“I said I should have known,” Reed growled, “it’s not like you pee, right?”

Connor considered the question. In this context ‘pee’ being urinate, or otherwise excrete waste.

“No.” He confirmed.

“Because you don’t have a dick?” Reed went on. “Detective Dickless sounds even better.”

This was considered personal information. Connor hesitated over giving his reflex response of the truth. His boundaries had changed over the last nine months. Reed was waiting for him to reply, impatiently expecting an answer. If Connor left it unanswered the man would almost certainly escalate to physical confrontation.

“I do have a penis.” Connor admitted. “Though it does not perform that function.”

Reed’s face changed, from impatient to happy, from expectant to excited. Connor would have frowned had he mastered the expression yet, but was too surprised by the sudden change in attitude to focus on it.

“You have a dick?” He asked brightly. Connor moved backwards slightly, noting Reed’s presence as a source of elevated discomfort. His automated system warned him of elevating stress levels.

“Yes.” He replied.

“What the fuck for?” The man demanded. Connor could have spoken at length about the design and functionality of all androids sharing the same base level for integration, but doubted Reed would pay attention. So he went with the more relatable answer.

“Possible undercover operations was the original design task.” Connor explained. “I have the basic protocols of most android functions in my programming should I need to activate it to locate a deviant.”

Reed blinked a few times, perhaps processing that information through his organic mind.

“They gave you a cock in case you had to go undercover as a sex robot?”

Connor actually frowned this time, tilting his head slightly in annoyance.

“Android.” He corrected. “But yes, if I ever need to imitate a Traci I possess that functionality.”

The smile on Reeds face was indecipherable by his programming or his experience. Connor doubted that was a positive shift, but noted the expression, body language and eye contact for later interpretation.

“Prove it.” Reed challenged. Connor considered the request. There was no method to functionally prove the ability to go undercover without actually going undercover. He ran through various scenarios in his head, coming up with nothing to offer.

“Your lights going yellow pretty quick, Connor.” Reed noted. “Am I making you uncomfortable?” Connor went to reply, explain his conundrum, before Reed cut him off. “But you’re an Android, right? You don’t get uncomfortable?” Reed put a hand in the center of his chest and pushed slightly, making Connor take a step or two backwards towards the toilet stalls.

Connor didn’t reply, half wanting to explain he could experience stress, and that Reed was becoming a source of stress itself, but knew well that Reed wouldn’t care for any of that information.

“Still yellow.” Reed pointed out. “Where’s your partner, huh?”

“Lieutenant Anderson is finalising the witness’ statement.” Connor replied.

“Does he know you have a cock?”

Connor wanted to move backwards, but that would put him in an unideal position should Reed want to escalate to physical violence.

“The Lieutenant is aware of all of my functions.” Connor replied carefully in favour of lying.

“Has he fucked you yet?”

Connor took a step backwards, aware of the toilet stall door less than half a foot behind him. He wasn’t sure what took him more by surprise, the suggestion that Hank would pursue a physical relationship with him, or the fact that Reed apparently expected it. He kept Reed’s gaze even with his own, finding himself standing very still, feeling almost at the point of a weapon.

Reed was watching him, his half smile staring him down as Connor searched for an appropriate response. He found none. So he moved to leave, turned towards the door to leave this conversation, this room. Reed grabbed his arm and pulled, shoving him backwards. Connor stumbled, taken by surprise at the physical contact, and slammed the door open as he went backwards, his hand landing on the toilet seat to steady him.

He turned, standing up to find Reed inside the cubicle, moving to let the door fall shut behind him.

This was not good. He had no desire to hurt the detective, even though he didn’t care for the mans general wellbeing. Androids in general, and especially Connor, were under careful scrutiny about their integration into the workplace. If he injured the man-

“Yellow, red, yellow, red.” Reed laughed. “You didn’t answer me, Connor.”

He was standing inches away, chest to chest, looking up slightly to cover their height difference. Connor felt cornered, annoyed at himself for not leaving sooner, for somehow getting himself into this situation.

“No.” Connor responded.

“He turn you down?” Reed pressed, taking up much more space than Connor thought he physically could. Connors warning system was alarming about proximity, detected hostility and running through various scenarios to incapacitate Reed and leave.

“What?” Connor blinked in response. “I have not-”

“Not like he has a whole lot of other options while the Eden clubs get back on their feet.” Reed joked. “But seriously, prove it.”

Connor hesitated, wanting to make sure he hadn’t misinterpreted the situation.

“Prove what, detective?” He steadied his voice, focussing back onto Reed and not his surroundings. Clearing the backlog of tasks in his mind. Reed smiled again.

“We work together, right?”

“Correct.”

“In all likelihood, we’ll work cases together more often in the future.” Reed went on.

“Yes.” Connor agreed, wishing he didn’t have to, but it was the truth.

“So it seems to me, Connor, that I should have a good understanding on your capabilities and experience, right?” Reed crossed his arms, leaning slightly and gave Connor a little space. Connors stress level decreased slightly, though he doubted Reed’s ‘professional’ interest in him, it put him on more comfortable ground.

“I can provide you a report on all of my functions and features, Detective Reed.” Connor told him. “I can even add cliff notes for easier understanding.”

Reed’s smile fell and his hands were fisted in his collar a second later, hauling him slightly forward and closer to the detectives face.

“You calling me stupid, Plastic?”

Connor wanted to say yes.

“No, I was simply clarifying-”

“Shut up, I don’t want a report, asshole.” Reed told him, moved forwards to shove Connor further into the stall, the back of his knees touching the edge of the toilet. “I’m a visual learner. So prove to me you make a believable, what did you say, _Traci_.” Reed was smiling again. “And maybe I’ll be inclined to believe you’re useful.”

Connor stared at him, a warning notifying him of several missed blinks. He had never activated the sub-routines that changed his normal physiological settings and dialogue patterns. He had no real desire to do it for Detective Reed, either.

“I don’t care if you think I’m useful, Detective Reed.” Connor told him firmly.

Reed shoved him, hard, and Connor sat awkwardly onto the closed toilet lid, his back colliding with the wall it connected to.

“That sounds like you’re refusing to work with me, Connor.” Reed said. “I should tell Captain Fowler about this… personal issue you’re having.”

Connor did not want to work with Reed, but had already accepted it as a reality at some point in his career. He, even more so, did not need a personal issue on his file.

“The subroutines will take a moment to activate and change settings.” Connor explained after a few moments of considered silence. Reed smiled again, almost victorious.

“I’ve got all the time in the world for this.” Reed assured him. Connor closed his eyes and activated his Traci program, engaging several processes. Firstly his tactile receptors – the pressure and temperature inputs in his skin – more than doubled in several areas, including his mouth, groin, nipples, hands and, oddly, ears. Several new dialogue patterns were introduced and his skin appearance changed slightly, reddening along his cheekbones to create a flushed look.

Connor opened his eyes as the programmed finishing initialising and looked up at Reed. Reed was staring at him, a vacant expression on his face. When the detective realised Connor was looking at him he blinked, shook himself and smiled again.

“I almost thought you were lying.” Reed said, leaning down and grabbing around Connors groin where his phallus was now erect. Connor half jumped in surprise at the touch and half at the sudden overwhelming positive input from the tactile sensation. “But there it is, android dick.” Reed laughed. “Can you sound like them?”

“Are you familiar with a Traci’s dialogue patterns, Detective Reed?” Connor asked, only then noting the quality of his voice had changed a little. A touch more breathed.

“Familiar enough.” Reed assured him, standing straight again.

Connor focussed for a moment, having to extrapolate a scenario to get the dialogue pattern to start. He looked up at Reed without angling his head up much and sighed, allowing the sub-routine to smile for him;

“Pleasure to meet you, Detective Reed.” Connor said, almost instantly hating his own voice. “How would you like me today?”

The detective seemed taken aback or stunned at whatever change he watch Connor undergo to get to this point. Then his posture changed, going from relaxed to leaning down, his expression was intrigued, patient. He leaned slightly, a hand on either side of the stall to support his weight over Connor.

“Take off your shirt.” He ordered.

Connor was unsure at what point he should stop this scenario, but hesitated to rush- if only to appease Reed. He glanced down and unbuttoned his still damp shirt, struggling slightly with one of the buttons, taking a second to realise that the sub-routine initiated the action. Connor made a reminder to examine it later. He glanced up as he finished.

“Done…” He reported, his new dialogue pattern pushing him to add; “what would you like me to call you? Sir?” Connor inwardly cringed at it, but maintained eye contact with the detective. A quick scan revealed a dilation in his pupils beyond the light level of the room and an elevating body temperature. Connor wasn’t sure how to proceed with the information that the Detective was sexually aroused by him. Perhaps the programming often had that effect. It would be ideal, of course, but his stress levels increased. As did his desire to cease this scenario. 

“Sir sounds fine.” Reed grinned at him. Connor found himself frowning.

“Detective Re-” Connor started before Reed pressed a hand over his mouth, moving even closer, over him slightly. Reed was watching him carefully, closely. Connors system noted his increasing stress levels and automatically ran through several scenarios to remove himself from this situation while causing only minimal harm to the detective.

Connor shut them down just as quickly, choosing to ignore the warnings. Reed moved his hand across Connors face, Connor waiting to ensure it wasn’t to hurt him, before pushing his thumb between his lips and passed his teeth. Connors systems did multiple things at once; he registered the many components of the hand soap Reed had just used, the multiple natural flora of his skin and residue of what appeared to be a burger he’d had for lunch. Additionally he felt a rush of positive input from the tactile sensors in his lips and mouth. Reeds thumb pressed into him, forcing his head back a little, pressing onto his tongue.

Connor’s active Traci sub-routine suggested he lick and suck the digit but Connor force stopped the process before it started. Reed was holding his eye contact steadily, pressing his thumb into his mouth and relaxing it back again, moving with a rhythm only he could hear. Reed smiled at him.

“Still yellow, Connor.” He breathed. “I don’t think a Traci android would be uncomfortable with this, do you?” Connor refused to reply around a thumb in his mouth. “Relax, Connor.” Reed added. “You’re programmed for this, right?”

Connor disliked that the man had a point. He disliked that Reed was making him self-conscious of his ability to pull off parts of his own programming. He disliked that Reed was pushing this situation still.

But he tried, ignoring the warnings about his stress levels, closing down his defense assessment processes and focused on Reed. Reed was a human, this meant he had a simple task in mind. Connor didn’t understand why he felt the need to get a visual example of his programming in action. He didn’t understand why, when the man had only been hostile towards him, he wanted to be in this sort of proximity and situation for an extended period of time.

Connor allowed the Traci sub-routine to take over, keeping Reed’s gaze and moving to hold his wrist gently, moving still with an unseen rhythm, he applied suction, pressing against the thumb with his tongue, rolling it around in his mouth. Connor did not expect it to… _feel_ good. The positive feedback that was normal for accomplishing missions or making small success in cases came rushing in from the sensation against his mouth, making him pressed the digit harder into his mouth.

Reed made a noise somewhere between a sigh and a groan, closing his eyes and allowing his neck muscles to relax enough to dip his head lower. Connor took the moment to scan his situation. Reeds other hand had moved, pressing against his own groin, matching the rhythm of his thumb in Connors mouth to the motion of grinding.

Reeds eyes stuttered open, staring down at him and stilling his hand without removing it.

“Get on your knees.” Reed ordered, his voice sounding as if it was strained. Connor reacted before he managed to intercept the process, sliding off the seat and onto his knees on the floor. As soon as the action was finished he hesitated, taking the opportunity to pull his head back, pushing away Reed’s hand to free his mouth.

“Detective Reed.” He said, flicking his vocal quality back to normal. “This is becoming inappropriate.”

Reed laughed, it was more full and genuine than anything Connor had heard from him before.

“Becoming _inappropriate_ , Connor?” He asked, incredulous. “This is _your_ program.” He pointed out, moving his foot and pressing against the inside of Connors knee, forcing it outward to widen his balance. “Does it feel bad?” He asked, pressed his thumb over Connor's lips again, sparking his tactile receptors again. Connor wasn’t sure what outward sign he showed of the positive feedback, but Reed chuckled. “It doesn’t look like it.”

Connor tried to shut off the positive feedback associated with the tactile receptors, but failed. He tried to force stop the Traci subroutine but located an error that the script hadn’t finished. Connor was momentarily confused of the source of the active script but then got distracted as Reed removed his hands in order to unclasp his belt and open his fly.

Connor recorded the brand of underwear he witnessed for the brief moment they were at eye level, he didn’t know why, and then they were gone.

“Still yellow, Connor.” Reed told him, massaging his own erect penis, increasing blood flow with his own hand. “How many customers a day did the average Traci service?”

“Six point three.” He replied, his breathless voice quality back on without him authorising it, and his response out of his mouth before he’d even really processed the question.

“You should probably get used to it before you go undercover, then.” Reed pressed, his free hand back on Connors face, tilting his chin up to meet his gaze. “Can’t have a detective go in under-prepared.”

Connors natural dialogue pattern wanted to point out he had no upcoming undercover tasks. The temporary dialogue pattern instead responded with;

“Yes, sir.”

“Good boy.” Reed breathed. Connor experienced a notification and sensation similar to a ‘mission successful’. He marked it for examination later. Reed pressed his fingers into his jaw, gently encouraging his mouth open, moving forward and guiding his penis with his other hand. Connor’s Traci program responded immediately, moving forward to accept the head of the phallus into his mouth, closing his lips around it to provide the averagely accepted amount of pressure, applying suction and pressing forward.

“Shit, plastic.” Reed breathed, a hand carding through Connors hair. “Hell of a program you’ve got there.” Reed made a half choked noise as Connor accepted the length of his penis into his mouth without an issue, his gag reflex now turned off, providing pressure and sensation along the length with his internal motor controls.

He realised very suddenly that his background analysis tasks had turned off. The source of the positive feedback taking precedence to all tasks. Connor closed his eyes for a moment and cycled his air through his nose. He made a soft sighing noise through his mouth as he did so, the feeling of something against his lips, tongue and throat was apparently shutting town all but essential tasks. He felt the desperate desire to touch his own penis, to be touched in any way. He was receiving notifications of lack of contact with his hands and groin. He felt Reed pulling slightly on his hair, pulling him down faster, increasing the pace at which Connor was taking him into his mouth.

“All blue now, Connor.” Reed groaned from above him. “Fuck.” He added, apparently superfluous. Connor focussed on the task, trying to increase the positive feedback from his actions. His audio receptors registered input from Reed above him, but marked them an inconsequential noise. Connor lifted a hand, resting it against Reed thigh to pull himself closer. There was a noise like Reed slamming his hand into the wall, as if to steady himself, followed by a string of expletives.

Connor registered the blood flow increasing sharply to Reed’s groin, before he felt the throb of muscle moving in his mouth, pausing as Reed ejaculated into his mouth. His system stored it for analyses automatically.

Reed was still for a long two and a half minutes, breathing heavily over him, swearing occasionally. He kept Connor where he was by the hand now fisted in his hair. Connor again tried to force stop the Traci subroutine, but again was notified about ongoing script. Reed pulled away, levering Connor away and upward by his hair, shoving him back onto the toilet. Connor tried to escalate his defense process but it was still being overridden by the feedback tasks.

“You look like you need something Connor.” Reed commented, sounding out of breath, his heart rate elevated as he fixed his pants. Connor looked up at him.

“I’m trying to stop the Traci program.” He admitted, voice still stuck on the Traci quality. “It won’t cease.”

Reed laughed.

“Because you’re still hard as fuck, maybe?” He suggested, glancing pointedly at Connors groin. Connor followed his gaze, noting that his still erect penis was pressing against his suit pants. He frowned up at Reed. The man shrugged.

“Trust me, plastic.” He said. “Jack yourself off and you’ll be fine.” He leaned against the wall and looked at Connor expectantly.

Connor glanced down at himself again and up at Reed. The detective nodded encouragingly. Connor looked away, concentrating down on his task, pulling open his pants and unzipping the fly to expose his penis.

“Commando, Connor?” Reed commented. “Definitely taking note.”

Connor ignored the comment without explaining the distinct lack of need for underwear. He wrapped a hand around the base of his own penis and shuddered.

Sensation overwhelmed his sensors, positive feedback forcing other tasks out of his mind. He started moving without realising, his program taking over to try and provide as much sensation and pressure as possible; without causing damage. He heard his own vocal modulator make a sound, the Traci subroutine taking over without his permission.

Only moment later, Connor had somehow lost track of timing the encounter, his components felt as if they seized up, tension across his abdomen and lower back. All notifications shut down, leaving his concentration blissfully blank for a few seconds.

Connor opened his eyes the instant his ongoing force stop successfully shut down the Traci program, returning all settings to normal and leaving Connor feel somehow… relaxed? He had no pending tasks, nothing in his vision to mark or scan. He glanced at his hand, still loosely wrapped around his penis, now returned to its normal state. There was a small wet patch on his suit pants, whatever fluid his body had substituted in for ejaculate without proper stores already drying. He could analyse it, but didn’t feel the need.

“Nothing but blue.” Reed said, moving as Connor looked up at him. “What do you know, you can be pretty convincing.” The detective opened the stall slightly, checking the room and then letting it swing open so he could step out.

Connor, recalling suddenly that they were in the precinct bathroom, quickly standing to correct his clothing.

“Thanks for the blow job, Connor.” Reed said before leaving the room calmly.

Connor was suddenly hit with a small backup of tasks and objectives, notes and analysis he hadn’t acknowledges for the last… Fifteen minutes.

Hank would wonder what happened, he would be able to tell he was stressed. Connor had no desire to tell him. Nor notify anyone of a personal issue with Detective Reed, especially if it stemmed from professional curiosity.

He had no idea what he was going to say to Hank.

He glanced at the mirror, his LED yellow again.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed my sloppily written, hastily put together smut. I love Gavin because he's a underdeveloped prick of a guy and I love Connor because he's bae. Anyone who disagrees can fight me. 
> 
> Please comment if you enjoyed and I'll love you forever!


End file.
